


won't watch you walk away again

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Chance Meetings, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Bitty was never friends with Jack Zimmermann at Samwell, but after he graduates, he keeps running into him.(Or: Five times Bitty and Jack meet accidentally and one time it isn’t an accident at all.)





	won't watch you walk away again

1.

Jack’s first meeting with Eric Bittle is, as first meetings go, not ideal in any way.

Actually, Jack has no idea who Eric Bittle is. Not yet. He’s just the guy who’s selling Jack his coffee this morning. The name tag on his apron simply reads _Bitty_. He greets Jack with a bright smile and he’s way too chipper for this time of day. He’s humming along to the radio as he prepares Jack’s order.

Jack is currently at his grumpiest, but he stuffs some money into the tip jar in front of him anyway. It’s not Bitty’s fault that Jack’s coffee machine is broken. It’s also not Bitty’s fault that Jack isn’t a morning person.

And he’s pretty sure that Bitty recognized him the second he walked in. His eyes went wide and he stumbled through his, “Good morning, what can I get you?” But he caught himself quickly and didn’t gape and didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask Jack for an autograph or a selfie, he just left him be. Now that sounds like Jack isn’t grateful that he has fans. He is. There was a time in his life when he thought he’d never make it to the NHL, and even when he signed with Providence after he played in college, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing some people’s reactions. Jack knows how lucky he is.

It’s not just luck, though; he worked hard for this and people have started to see that. He’s not anxious by default when he turns on the TV, not anymore. He’s a lot better than he used to be, at a lot of things. He still gets anxious, but he’s also still getting better, still learning, still finding his place.

“Here you go,” Bitty says and hands Jack his coffee. “Milk and sugar are on your left.”

“Thank you,” Jack says, takes his coffee and reaches for one of the lids, and somehow the sleeve of his coat nudges his coffee, and somehow the whole thing tips over, and Jack tries to save it, but in the end he just ends up splashing some of the coffee on Bitty.

Bitty, as Jack starts to apologize, picks up a dishtowel and starts to mop it up, still with a smile on his face. “Don’t you worry about it, I’ll make you another one.”

“Thank you,” Jack mumbles and nods at Bitty’s apron. “I’m really sorry, I–”

“I’ve got another one in the back,” Bitty says. “I’ll just wipe off the worst of this, then I’ll get you another coffee.”

Jack makes a face, but thanks him again. He’s pretty sure that there’s coffee under the little trays that have the sugar and napkins and whatnot in them.

He apologizes a few more times, also to the two women who are waiting in line behind him, who wave him off and decline his offer to let them order first before he gets his second coffee. Bitty tries to give him his second coffee for free, but Jack insists on paying. It was his fault after all and he never even comes here. He’s just here because his coffeemaker is broken and this place is closest to his apartment. Once his coffeemaker is fixed, he’ll probably never come back here.

Jack sneaks some extra cash into the tip jar while Bitty is pouring his second coffee. When he leaves, finally with a lid on his coffee cup to prevent another disaster, Bitty is still wiping the counter, lifting up trays, mumbling apologies to the two women who were in line behind Jack. They both burst out laughing at something Bitty says, so Jack can only hope that he didn’t completely ruin this guy’s day.

He still feels vaguely guilty about it for the rest of the day, but he manages to push it to the back of his mind, and doesn’t really think about it anymore until his mom visits him a few months later.

She wants to go out for breakfast, and she saw the cutest little café on the way to Jack’s apartment and it’s really not far away, she tells him, and until they’re standing right in front of it, Jack doesn’t even consider that it might be _that_ café. The Coffee Incident café. Well, maybe the guy who had to mop up his mess isn’t around today. Or maybe he can’t even remember Jack.

People probably spill stuff all the time. Anyway, it’s been months.

When they go inside, Jack quickly realizes that he had nothing to worry about. There’s a girl behind the counter, and the guy from last time is nowhere to be seen.

Jack’s mom ends up really loving the cupcakes they sell at the café, so she makes him promise that they’ll go back the next time she’s in Providence, but when she does and they go back, there is, once again, someone else behind the counter. Jack starts to think that maybe that guy just doesn’t work there anymore, but he still thinks about that one time he spilled coffee all over the counter whenever he drops in with his mom (and sometimes his dad).  

And every time he’s a little embarrassed.

And every time he wonders if he should have done a little more than just give that guy an extra tip. Because he was so nice about it, he even tried to give Jack his second coffee for free.

Well, it’s been months now. Jack doesn’t even remember the guy’s name; he wouldn’t know who to ask for.

He doesn’t know who Eric Bittle is. Not yet.

 

2.

Bitty has participated in countless Falconers giveaways. Unsurprisingly, he’s never won anything.

He’s been to a couple of games since he moved to Providence, though. When he buys tickets, he usually gets one of the cheapest seats available. He really likes going to those games, though. Bitty used to figure skate and he sometimes skated at Faber back at Samwell, just for fun because his knee wouldn’t let him go for anything more serious. There he became friends with the manager of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team and she kept inviting him to games. He also met some of the guys, but he never really got to hang out with Jack Zimmermann. Who is now one of the Falconers’ most popular and successful players.

Bitty’s first actual interaction with Jack Zimmermann took place a long time after Jack had left Samwell. In that café Bitty worked at. Just a couple of weeks after he’d moved to Providence, on a Monday morning, when Jack spilled coffee all over the counter. And over Bitty’s apron.

Jack didn’t know who Bitty was, of course. At best, Jack once said hello to him at a kegster that Lardo invited him to. When Jack came into the café, he did seem a lot nicer than he was at Samwell, though, so Bitty quickly forgave him for knocking over that coffee (which ended up in every crevice, by the way), especially when he emptied his tip jar at the end of the day.

Bitty ended up in Providence because he found a job at a café here after he graduated. At that point he was slightly desperate and absolutely not willing to go back to Georgia.

He quit that job a while ago and instead started teaching baking and cooking classes several times a week. The hours are a mess, but it never gets boring. On weekends he teaches special classes for kids and those are actually his favorite. Together with what he makes with his vlog, he has enough of an income to get by. And he recently got an offer to put together a cookbook with the best recipes from his YouTube channel, and it’ll be published next year, and if all that goes well, he may not have to find himself a second job.

Even though things are going astoundingly well for him only one and a half years after he graduated, Bitty has been trying not to spend too much money just in case things stop going so astoundingly well without a warning. He made an exception when he needed a new blender, though.

He also made an exception for that really nice pie dish.

And for those cookie cutters he found the other week. But those were mostly for the kids. And the kids loved them, so it was definitely worth it.

Anyway, he’s _trying_. So he pretty much enters every giveaway the Falconers do, hoping that one day he’ll end up with free tickets for a game. But, in the end, Bitty usually only wins prizes for his baking, which is actually nothing to complain about.

Today Bitty gets another chance, though. The Falcs are doing their weekly contest and it’s perfect for Bitty – _Not at the game tonight?_ _Show us how you support your Falconers at home for a chance to meet a player at a game! #GoFalcsGo_

Bitty’s been baking anyway, so instead of doing a regular lattice, he cuts out GO FALCS and a few twirls to make the whole thing look a lot fancier than it really is. He takes a couple of pictures of it to put on Instagram later, and then pulls on his Falconers shirt and sets up his camera to take a picture of himself with his pie. It takes several tries. And by several he doesn’t mean ten or so, he means about a billion.

He eventually finds a picture that isn’t totally horrible, that shows both the pie and his Falcs shirt and that doesn’t have any dirty mixing bowls or dish towels in the background. He replies to the Falcs on Twitter with the picture and then watches the rest of the game.

Bitty doesn’t think too much about that contest on Twitter anymore.

The third period is so tense that he doesn’t even check his phone until the commercial break. A whole bunch of people have retweeted and liked the picture he sent to the Falcs and his Instagram notifications are quite frankly ridiculous.

He’s absolutely not expecting the message from the Falconers’ Twitter the next day.

Well. He won a prize for his baking again. It’s just a different kind of prize.

He gets two tickets for a game and he and a friend will get to take a picture with one of the Falcs before warm-ups. Bitty takes Lardo to the game. He has a bunch of friends in Providence, but none of them are particularly interested in hockey. Anyway, Lardo actually knows Jack Zimmermann, even though Bitty is pretty sure that the player they’ll get to meet will be someone else.

Bitty is a nervous mess all day before the game and he tells Lardo that he’s going to cry about a hundred times. Then they’re picked up by a nice lady who works for the Falconers and Bitty has to tell Lardo that he’s going to cry with looks instead of words.

It’s Sebastian St. Martin they get to meet.

And Bitty is about two seconds away from hyperventilating when he says hello to them. And when they shake hands. And when they take a selfie. And when he signs Bitty’s Falconers shirt.

And then Marty turns to Lardo and says, “You’re Jack’s friend, right?”

“Chyeah,” Lardo says. She turns to Bitty and adds, “I told Jack you were taking me.”

“Oh,” Bitty says. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; of course Lardo would tell Jack that she was coming to the game. And of course she’s already met some of Jack’s teammates. Bitty even remembers her telling him about it. Half of the Samwell hockey team went to Providence to watch one of Jack’s first games with the Falcs.

“He’ll be out in a second,” Marty says, and pats Bitty on the shoulder. “Enjoy the game.”

“We’re also gonna meet Jack Zimmermann?” Bitty asks.

“You’ve met him before,” Lardo says with a shrug.

“But–”

“Take a deep breath, Bits.”

Bitty does, but it doesn’t help, not even a little bit.

Jack walks up to them, already in his skates, tugging at his warm-up jersey, ridiculously handsome as always. Maybe Bitty had a teensy tiny crush on him in college. Honestly, though, who didn’t? Jack smiles when he spots them. Or, well, when he spots Lardo. He has to bend down to give her a hug.

“Jack, this is Bitty, he won tickets for the game,” Lardo says.

“Bitty?”

“Eric Bittle,” Bitty says and shakes Jack’s hand. He feels astoundingly similar to how he always felt right before his French exams. Like he’s about to throw up on the feet of someone whose feet he definitely shouldn’t throw up on.

“Have we met?” Jack asks, still shaking Bitty’s hand.

The thing is, Jack probably sort of remembers him from Samwell. Bitty went to a lot of games, he went to parties at the hockey guys’ frat house. He was around every now and then. That’s what Jack is asking, that’s the answer Bitty should give. But that’s not what Bitty says. Bitty says, “Uh, you once spilled coffee on me.”

Jack’s eyes go wide. And he finally lets go of Bitty’s hand.

Lardo snorts.

That’s when Bitty realizes that he should have kept his mouth shut. He told Lardo that Jack Zimmermann came into the café that day. He told her that he knocked over his coffee. He told her that the coffee ended up _everywhere_. And he begged Lardo not to tell Jack, even though she was dying to. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just that I worked at that café, you see? And you came in and–”

“I remember,” Jack says and he looks so embarrassed that Bitty instantly feels bad for him.

“Anyway,” Bitty says quickly, “no harm done. I suppose it’s just a funny story to tell. Not that I told a lot of people.” He did tell a lot of people.

“I’m really sorry that I spilled coffee on you,” Jack says.

“Well, I survived,” Bitty says and adds a bright smile to the mix. He wasn’t trying to be rude, he was just really overwhelmed by all of this, winning those tickets, being here, meeting Marty, meeting Jack, seeing Thirdy walk by and give Jack a nudge as he passes. It’s ridiculous and it’s too much and too exciting and that’s why Bitty’s brain-to-mouth filter just temporarily put itself in the trash.

In the end it’s probably a good thing that Jack doesn’t have too much time to talk to them. They take a picture and Jack signs Bitty’s shirt – Tater sees him do it and comes over to sign it too – then he says goodbye to them, hugs Lardo, apologizes one more time for the thing with the coffee, even though it’s been ages, and then says, “I gotta go, have fun.”

“You too,” Bitty says and sort of wants to kick himself a second later. Jack has this reputation for being married to hockey. First every said he was too much of a party guy, now everyone calls him a robot. Clearly, the people who say that have never seen Jack after the Falcs scored, and they’ve never seen Jack skate with the kids, and, quite frankly, they have no idea what they’re talking about. Still, for a moment, Bitty is scared that Jack might take it the wrong way and think that Bitty’s making fun of him.

But then Jack lips twitch into a small smile and he nods. “See you,” he says.

Bitty is pretty sure that they will not be seeing each other. Maybe Bitty will be seeing Jack on TV, yeah, but they won’t be hanging out and gossiping about the neighbors any time soon.

Well. Bitty doesn’t know it yet, but he’s not entirely right about that.

 

3.

Jack comes out after his fourth season with the Falconers. They made it to the playoffs this year, all the way to the Conference finals. He broke two franchise records during the regular season. It’s time. All of his teammates already know.

He’s not the only one. He’s the only team captain, though. He called Kent about it a long, long time ago, and all Kent said was, “Not yet,” and then, “You can do whatever you want, Zimms. It’s just not how I want to do it. I know some people who might, though.”

Kent finds Jack two other players to go along with him. Jack finds another one. It’s comforting to know that it won’t be just him, but he’d be lying if he said that he isn’t at least a little bit scared. He insists that it’s made clear in his statement that he won’t be answering any questions concerning his sexuality in the future because it’s in no way relevant to the game.

When it’s released, he goes home to spend some time with his parents, but he doesn’t ignore it all completely, neither the backlash, nor the support. He made this choice, so he’s not going to hide from it.

Back in Providence, Jack tries to go about his days like he would if nobody knew.

Obviously it’s not that easy. He gets a million interview requests. He tells his agent to decline all of them. It’s really a good thing that he’s never had a social media presence to begin with, so at least he doesn’t have anyone bugging him for comments there.

Before the beginning of training camp the Falcs get together for a You Can Play video. The whole team is there. Every single guy in the line-up. Even the new kids.

Jack has had a few fans come up to him here and there too, and the first time it happened Jack, as prepared as he thought he was, wasn’t prepared at all. Since most of those encounters were positive so far – except one outside a restaurant that nearly had Tater starting a brawl – Jack doesn’t feel quite as uneasy going places. Anyway, he can’t spend the rest of his time in Providence staying in his apartment.

So he goes to his favorite bookstore on a day off. It’s not too far from Jack’s apartment and they have a well-stocked history section.

It’s still early and there’s only a few people milling about. Nobody pays him any mind and the history books are in the back of the store, so Jack can find some new reading material in peace. The Falcs have a roadie coming up a few days after the beginning of the season and Jack likes to bring a book along, even though he often ends up reading no more than two pages.

He’s still trying to decide if it’s excessive to buy four books when someone behind him laughs and says, “Excuse me, could I just…”

Jack hastily apologizes and steps out of the way, then he spots the guy who’s trying to squeeze past him. It’s Lardo’s friend. Eric Bittle. Jack hasn’t seen him ever since he took Lardo to that game last season, but Lardo keeps mentioning him – “You know, Bits, the coffee dude.”

Apparently Bittle has been to a few more games and Jack only barely kept himself from telling Lardo that if her friend needed tickets for a game, Jack could easily get him some. Bittle obviously didn’t think the whole coffee mishap was that big of a deal, so Jack didn’t want to overdo it either. In the end, he asked Lardo to pass something on to him – a signed puck from the game he was at.

Jack might have seen Bittle again if he’d been able to go to Lardo’s birthday party, but he was about five hundred miles away from Boston that night. Now Bittle is standing right in front of Jack, eyes wide, clearly unsure if Jack remembers him.

“Bittle,” Jack says. “Hello.”

“Hi, yes, hello,” Bittle says. “What are you doing here?”

Jack holds up the three books he’s picked so far. “Buying books.”

“Right, of course, what a silly thing to ask,” Bittle says. His eyes flit to the handmade sign above the shelf. “You’re interested in history?”

“Yes, it’s, uh… interesting,” Jack says. He realizes that he doesn’t sound like he’s all that interested. He clears his throat. “What about you?” There’s nothing back here other than the history section and the staff entrance for the office.

“Oh, I’m just here to…” Bittle’s face goes pink. “I was just singing a few books.”

“Books?”

“Cookbooks,” Bittle says. “See, it’s like this... Marjorie who owns this place let me put up a poster for my cooking classes when I first started out, they’ve really helped me a lot, she and her friends. They told all those people about my classes and passed on my flyers, and now that my cookbook’s out, Marjorie asked if I could sign a few and how could I say no to that?”

“You published a cookbook?”

“It’s not as fancy as it sounds,” Bittle says, but he’s positively glowing.

“Where is it?”

“What?”

“Your cookbook.”

“Oh, it’s right over there, let me show you…” And then Bittle’s hand is on his arm and he gently steers Jack away from the history books and into a much more colorful corner of the store. “It’s this one.”

Bittle hands him a book called _Easy As Pie_. There’s a little sticker on it. _Signed_.

“It’s about baking?” Jack asks. “Just baking?”

“Just baking,” Bittle confirms.

“I’ve never really… baked much.” Jack picks up one of the cookbooks. “I guess I might as well try.”

“There’s some extra easy recipes in there,” Bittle says and thumbs through the first couple of pages, explaining what he did to tweak those recipes, “–but it’s still just as good, honestly, I made sure the instructions were easy to follow, even for people who don’t know a thing about baking.”

Jack listens and tries to remember as much as he can, even though he still isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to make a pie crust from scratch, no matter how easy Bittle says it is. It’s not that Jack is a bad cook, but he likes his routines, and cooking is part of them. He’s not overly creative; he doesn’t experiment. He cooks the same food over and over again, because he knows that it works for him.

“Is this your first cookbook?” Jack asks. Bittle doesn’t look old enough to have even one cookbook on the market, so Jack is curious.

“Yeah, but I’ve got another one in the works. It’s still in the early stages, though. Like, very early. It’s nothing more than idea at this point.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the idea?”

“I think I want to make one for kids.”

“I should get that one, too, probably,” Jack says.

Bittle smiles, and it sort of makes Jack smile as well. “Does that mean you’re getting this one?” Bittle asks.

“I am.” Jack isn’t buying it to be polite. It almost feels like he’s buying a friend’s book and he really wants to know what’s in there and maybe try one of those recipes. Or he can show his dad and maybe _he_ can try one of those recipes.

“Let me know how your baking adventures go,” Bittle says.

“Sure,” Jack says.

“Well, I should go, I’ve been procrastinating on packing and I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“You’re leaving?” Jack isn’t sure why he’s so disappointed. Maybe because part of him thought that he and Bittle might end up being friends somewhere down the line. Bittle is chipper and chatty and just so different from what Jack is used to, but now it looks like he won’t be sticking around.

“It’s just a little book tour. Nothing big, I’ll be back home in a week and a half.”

“Oh…” Not leaving for good, then. “Have fun,” Jack says and it somehow comes out sounding like a question, even though Bittle is clearly the kind of person who enjoys talking to people about his book, and he probably won’t mind doing it almost every day for nearly two weeks either. Jack understands; he feels the same way about hockey. Once he starts talking about it, he can go on for hours.

“Thanks, I sure will.” Bittle smiles at him. “It was nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, I… it was.”

“See you.” Bittle waves at him as he turns to leave, walks a few steps, and stops again. “Jack, what you did…”

Jack takes a deep breath. Of course Bittle knows. Jack almost forgot about it all while Bittle was talking to him about pie crusts.

Bittle pauses for a moment and takes another step back. Maybe he realized that Jack isn’t too keen on talking about it. “It just… it meant a lot. To a lot of people,” Bittle says quickly, and Jack has a feeling that Bittle might be one of those people. “Anyway, have a good day, all right?”

“You too, Bittle.”

Bittle nods and only barely steps around a display of Italian cookbooks, nearly pushing a stack of the _100 Easiest Pasta Recipes_ off the table. Bittle laughs, his cheeks bright red, shoves the books back into place and then leaves with a last glance at Jack, shouting a goodbye across the store to Marjorie as he goes.

When Jack gets home, after careful consideration, he asks Lardo if he could have Bittle’s phone number. Otherwise how will he tell him how baking his first pie went?

 

4.

“That’s probably Jack,” Lardo says when the doorbell rings.

“Jack?” Bitty asks, but Lardo has already disappeared through the door.

It’s Shitty’s birthday and Bitty has been in Boston since last night. He brought three pies and made another one this morning before Lardo started handing him drinks. As the day progressed, those drinks appeared in his hand at a much higher (and occasionally alarming) frequency, and now he’s way beyond tipsy and in no way prepared to face Jack Zimmermann.

Bitty knew that he was invited, but Lardo said he probably wouldn’t be able to make it – he had a game yesterday and has another one tomorrow – so Bitty was really not expecting him to show up.

Jack has been texting him. Just every now and then at first, to ask questions about the recipes in Bitty’s cookbook. Then Bitty started to text him before games to wish him good luck and he sort of… kept doing that. Maybe Bitty remembered that crush he had on Jack in college, maybe he’s remembering it right now, while sitting on Lardo’s kitchen counter with a mimosa in hand. Maybe he’s remembering it a lot more when Jack walks into the kitchen five minutes later.

In those five minutes Bitty watched Jack walk past the door and greet Shitty in the hallway, tried to think about what he was going to say once he was face to face with Jack, and wondered if he should just go out there and say hello or if he should stay in here and enjoy a few more minutes of peace.

Now he’s still sitting here and Shitty is saying something about Bitty, “that fucking beaut of a baker,” and the kitchen and the pie and then Jack is in the doorway and he’s wearing the softest-looking flannel and he smiles a little and says, “Bittle, how are you?”

“Jack,” Bitty says and it’s more of a squeak and ridiculously embarrassing and it says _I’m hella drunk_ in about ten languages that Bitty doesn’t even speak. “I’m okay, I mean, I’m great, really, how about you?”

“Fine,” Jack says, and his smile grows wider by a smidgen. “I hear there’s pie?”

“There’s _so_ much pie,” Bitty says and slides off the counter. He puts down his mimosa beforehand, which is an excellent idea, because he pretty much trips as soon as his feet touch the floor.

Jack catches him by the elbow. “Careful there, Bittle.”

“I’m fine,” Bitty says, “really, totally fine.”

“All right.” Jack turns away before Bitty can determine whether or not Jack is trying not to laugh at him. He nods at the pies on the kitchen table. “You made all of them?”

“Of course,” Bitty says indignantly.

“They look great,” Jack says. “A lot better than the one I tried to make.”

“You’ll get there.” Bitty pats his arm for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary. Because he’s drunk and currently doesn’t know any better. “It takes practice.”

“I’m not sure if all the practice in the world could make my pie look any better,” Jack says and cuts himself a slice of apple pie. “Maybe I should come to one of your classes.”

Bitty nods. “Maybe you should.”

“In the summer,” Jack says, like he’s really, actually considering signing up for one of them.

“Yeah, your schedule is…” Bitty blinks up at Jack. That boy should come with a warning sign, it’s not a good idea to look directly at him. “You’re pretty busy. With all that hockey. And the traveling. And… everything.” He takes a sip from his mimosa, like that’s going to keep him from babbling. “Do you even stay in Providence during the summer?”

“Usually not for the whole summer,” Jack says. “I always go home.”

“To Canada?”

Jack nods and takes a bite of his pie. “It doesn’t just _look_ better than mine.”

“Well, it’d be really unfair if you were also good at baking on top of it all.”

“On top of it all?”

“You know the…” The stunning good looks. The soft voice. The _Falconers’ leading scorer_ thing. And that other thing where he’s really nice to children and visits them at the hospital and gives them sticks and pucks at games. Bitty waves his hand in Jack’s general direction. “The hockey and everything.”

“Yeah,” Jack says, “at least I’m all right at hockey.”

Bitty shakes his head at him. “ _All right_ , he says…” He sits back down on the counter and nearly spills his mimosa as he hops up. He should try not to move as much anymore.

“I showed your cookbook to my parents, by the way… My mom loves it, and she’s really not much of a cook.”

See, Bitty has heard of Jack’s mom. He’s seen her in several movies and hearing Jack talk about her like she’s, well, just his mom and not a well-known movie star and model is blowing Bitty’s mind just a little bit. And she liked Bitty’s cookbook.

Bitty’s life is becoming increasingly stranger. His subscriber count on YouTube still surprises him sometimes. He’s working on his second cookbook. There are waiting lists for his cooking classes. He’s friends with Jack Zimmermann. At least in a way. They’re standing in this kitchen and they’re talking like they’ve known each other for years. Which they have, although they never talked like this in college. In fact, they never talked at all.

And Bitty wouldn’t have believed it, but Jack is surprisingly easy to talk to. He doesn’t even notice how the minutes tick by.

Then Shitty comes into the kitchen, now shirtless, a beer in hand, and he drags them back to the party with him. Bitty loses a shoe on the way and Jack picks it up for him.

Somehow they’re always next to each other for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes they’re so close that their arms are pressed together, and Bitty’s sure that his face goes a terribly unflattering shade of lobster-red, but maybe he can blame that on the alcohol. And then, sometimes, Jack smiles at him, and Bitty smiles back at him and maybe he’s making a total fool of himself, but he can blame that on the alcohol too, right?

At some point, they start talking about Samwell, and Bitty mentions that he’s been to a few kegsters, and Jack admits that he doesn’t remember seeing him at a single one. Bitty waves it off and Shitty jokes that Jack lived under a rock while they were at Samwell.

Jack apologizes to Bitty anyway. And he looks at him, and smiles again, and Bitty tries to convince himself that the expression on Jack’s face doesn’t say something like, _Well, I see you now_.

 

5.

Jack’s mom is talking about a charity dinner she went to with his dad last weekend and normally Jack would listen because he’s involved with some of his mom’s charities as well, only now Jack spotted Bittle and he suddenly finds it hard to pay attention to what his mom is saying. Jack is at a new restaurant that his mom wanted to try – she knows more about what’s going on in Providence than Jack does – and Bittle is over by the bar, where one of the waiters is handing him a bag with the restaurant’s logo on it. They talk for a moment, then Bittle waves and as he turns to leave he sees Jack.

His eyes go wide, but he catches himself quickly. Now he’s waving at Jack.

Jack smiles at him, unsure if he should get up to say hello. Bittle doesn’t seem to know what to do either, so Jack waves him over.

Bittle walks over, his smile brighter than Jack has ever seen it. If Jack had to guess he’d say it’s a nervous sort of smile.

“Bittle, hi,” Jack says.

“Hi, Jack.”

Jack’s dad clears his throat, an amused smile on his face. “Hello, Jack’s friend.”

“Hello… Mr. Bad B– Mr. Jack’s dad,” Bittle says, and flushes, and shakes Jack’s dad’s hand. “And Mrs–”

Jack’s mom smiles and shakes Bittle’s hand as well. “Alicia,” she says. Jack is convinced that she recognizes Bittle; there’s a picture of him in his cookbook and she’s been watching Bittle’s videos. Jack has seen a couple as well. He’s not sure why but there’s something about the way that Bittle talks about recipes that’s strangely soothing, even though Bittle is one of the most chipper and enthusiastic people Jack has ever met. There’s always _a lot_ going on in those videos.

“Alicia,” Bittle repeats, his eyes darting from Jack’s mom to Jack’s dad. “I’m Eric. Bittle. It’s nice to meet y’all. Did you enjoy the food?”

“It’s excellent,” Alicia says, and Jack knows for a fact that she’s not exaggerating.

“Glad to hear it,” Bittle says and now there’s something slightly mischievous in his smile. “A friend of mine owns this place.”

“Really?” Alicia asks.

“Yeah, see, I teach cooking classes and she used to as well, but now she’s opened this place.” Bittle holds up the bag he’s carrying. “And I obviously gotta support my friends.”

“Of course. Do you live around here?”

“It’s not too far, just around the corner, really.” Bittle nods at the door. “I should get going. If you’re thinking about getting dessert, you should go for the chocolate-strawberry mousse. It’s to die for.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Thanks, Bittle,” Jack says. He automatically adds a _goodbye_ and nods in agreement when his mom comments on what a lovely guy Bittle is once he’s out of earshot, but Jack’s thoughts are elsewhere.

He’s watching Bittle walk away again.

They keep running into each other but Jack is always scared that this time will be the last time. Which is completely ridiculous, because he has Bittle’s phone number. But what if Bittle changes his number? Then Jack could always reach out to Lardo. He knows that he’s making things unnecessarily difficult, he knows that he’s overthinking this, but he really likes being friends with Bittle, he likes talking to him. About hockey – Bittle knows a lot even though he’s only ever figure-skated – and about everything that’s not hockey, like Bittle’s cooking classes, and his family, and their arguments about jam.

He’s not sure why it feels so strange to him to watch him go.

Jack’s dad clears his throat. “Jack?”

“Yeah? Sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“About what?”

Jack’s eyes dart back to the door. It just fell shut behind Bittle. “Sorry,” he says again and turns his attention back to his parents.

His dad, eyebrows raised, stares at him, then shrugs and nods at the door. The look on his face is quietly saying something like, _Go_. Or maybe that’s what Jack wants the look on his dad’s face to say, so he mutters, “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” and he goes, and he doesn’t even know _why_ he goes until he’s out the door and catches up to Bittle, who luckily hasn’t made it that far just yet.

“Bitty,” Jack calls out and Bittle stops in his tracks.

He wheels around, his bag swaying. “Jack?”

“I was just…” Jack takes a deep breath. Where was he going with this? There are a lot of things on his mind right now and he really didn’t have the time to get them into order. Here’s what he knows, though: He knows that he likes talking to Bittle. About every topic under the sun. He knows that he looks forward to reading Bittle’s messages, he knows that Bittle makes him smile. He knows, now that he allows himself to think about it, that Bittle means a lot to him. And he knows that he hates watching him walk away not knowing if they’ll see each other again soon.

So maybe he should make sure that they’ll see each other again. Soon.

“I was wondering,” Jack starts again, “if you’d like to have dinner.”

Bittle looks down at his bag. Which likely contains dinner.

“With me,” Jack adds.

“Dinner,” Bittle says.

“Yes.”

“With you.”

Jack nods.

“As in…”

Jack knows what Bittle is asking. He’s asking if _dinner_ equals _date_. Jack hadn’t thought much about it before he asked, he was just dead-set on making sure that they’d see each other again, but Jack finds that the idea of going out on a date with Bittle doesn’t scare him. If anything, it makes him feel strangely warm. It’s a good kind of strange. So Jack says, “As in a date. If you’d like it to be a date.”

Bittle stares at him for a moment. “Yes,” he finally says, “I’d like that very much.”

“Good,” Jack says. Maybe he’ll remember how to breathe in a minute or so. “I’ll text you?”

“Okay,” Bittle says.

“Okay,” Jack echoes. “See you soon, Bittle.”

“See you soon, Jack.”

His parents don’t ask any questions when Jack joins them again. But they share one of those looks when he sits down. Jack decides not to comment.  

“I ordered the chocolate-strawberry mousse,” Jack’s mom says.

“Sounds good,” Jack says, as nonchalantly as he can manage.

Jack’s dad grins at him across the table and Jack smiles sheepishly in return. He’s still feeling that strange warmth. He feels like he did when he realized that he found a friend who’d love him no matter what in Shitty. He feels like he did when he signed with the Falconers. He feels like he did when he scored his first NHL goal. He feels like he always does when he talks to Bittle.

He feels happy.

 

+1

Bitty loses count of how many outfits he tries on before his date with Jack. He only settles on one because he doesn’t have time to try on another one. It doesn’t really matter. Jack has seen him in all sorts of outfits and part of Bitty is expecting Jack to show up in a Falconers hoodie, so maybe Bitty’s outfit is totally over the top. The place they’re going to is nice, but it’s not the sort of place you need to dress up for. It’s a cozy Italian restaurant, family-owned, and they serve the best tiramisu in town. It’s a ten-minute walk away from Bitty’s place.

Jack insisted on picking him up instead of meeting him there. Bitty suggested they could walk there from his apartment.

When the doorbell rings, Bitty has to take several deep breaths before he manages to even move. He’s going out on a date. With Jack Zimmermann. He’s still not sure if he’s dreaming all of this up. He freaked out on Lardo on the phone twice. It’s too late to call her a third time; he really needs to get a move on.

Jack is standing downstairs on the sidewalk and he’s wearing a pair of jeans that has to be tailored and a suit jacket, and he _always_ looks ridiculously handsome, but this time Bitty can say, “You look nice,” without it being weird.

“So do you,” Jack says. “I like your, uh… you.”

Bitty blushes furiously. But that’s okay, because Jack’s cheeks are pink as well. They’re in this together.

They walk slowly and they talk about last night’s Falcs game and about the class Bitty taught last night. It wasn’t easy to figure out when they’d both be in town, and not playing hockey or teaching people how to make pastries or pie crust or jam. But they’re here now and Bitty can’t stop smiling and it looks like Jack can’t stop smiling either.

They both order pasta for dinner and switch their plates halfway through.

They share some tiramisu for dessert.

They don’t run out of things to talk about, and after Jack walks Bitty home, their fingers intertwined since they were halfway back to Bitty’s place, they keep talking outside the door. Bitty almost asks him to come upstairs, but he knows that Jack has practice in the morning.

“I should go soon,” Jack eventually says.

“Yeah,” Bitty says and he tries not to look too disappointed, because he knew what he was getting into. Jack will be out of town all of next week, but he’s already added Bitty on Skype, so Bitty thinks they’ll be okay.

“We should do this again,” Jack says. “If you want.”

“Definitely. Maybe I could cook for you sometime?”

“I’d like that. And maybe one day I can cook for you. I’ll manage as long as there’s no baking.” Jack takes a deep breath and squeezes Bitty’s hand. “Bittle…” Another deep breath. “Bits.”

“Jack?”

Jack’s looking down at him and Bitty could honestly get lost in those eyes. Then Jack asks, “Can I kiss you?” Just like that. This boy is going to put Bitty in an early grave.

It immediately snaps Bitty out of his dreamy starting. He nods, and even though it might be easier to just stand on the front steps, Bitty stands on his tiptoes and lets Jack pull him close, and up, and then Jack is kissing him and Bitty is, just for a few minutes, getting lost again.

When they pull apart, Bitty absent-mindedly pats Jack’s chest. “I’m so glad you poured coffee over me.” Because that’s where it all started in a way, isn’t it?

Before Jack can apologize for it again, Bitty tugs him down into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)
> 
> I'm @zimmermaenner on tumblr if you wanna say hi!


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